


Hotel Of The Rising Sun

by E_Baker



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Death, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Gang Violence, Graphic Description of Corpses, Humor, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Murder, POV First Person, POV Third Person, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sex, Sexual Content, Slurs, Suicide, Vietnam War, Violence, War, backstories based on streams and person headcanon, major character death in the fact that i'll be doing some backstories, might add them ships later, please dont read if its too much, this will be detailed, we dont know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-13 13:28:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21495064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E_Baker/pseuds/E_Baker
Summary: Walls tend to be thin in Hotels, and what is divulged is overheard, and what is overheard, gets told to the next guy at the bar.
Comments: 26
Kudos: 122





	1. Phencyclidine

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick note before diving in, some slurs are mentioned in this chapter. This is only meant to represent the time era and not any personal beliefs of myself.
> 
> I will also note that no racial slurs will be present since that's not happening hell no, but the Q and the F slur is used, as well as the R slur. Proceed with caution.
> 
> EDIT 21/11/19: Fixed some spelling errors, formatting, etc.

Angel sat quietly on his window sill, staring out into the hellscape quietly. It was a moment of soft introspection for the arachnid, and quite fitting. ‘Kinda’ fucken’ stupid how I’d end up like this.’ He thought to himself, reminiscing of days long gone by.  
He had arrived at the Hotel four weeks prior, and two weeks ago Angel had royally shafted the Hotel’s chance at any real success. He didn’t necessarily feel bad, but he didn’t feel too good about it either. Charlie, despite her naivety and happy-go-lucky persona, truly wanted the best for him, and that was more than he could even say for himself. Angel didn’t entirely care whether or not he’d go clean, or even perhaps ascend into Heaven at some point in the far distant infinity. All he cared for was sex, drugs, more drugs, and himself.  
Sighing with abject boredom at his refection in the window, he reached into his jacket and lifted out a pack of cigarettes. He then raised another hand and lit at it slowly, lightly inhaling it. ‘Fuck I’m bored.’ He thought, now trailing a claw down the window pane.  
“What t’ do, what t’ do,” Angel sighed out loud, slowly getting up from his perch and striding across his room. He then opened his door and trailed out into the hallway outside of his room, “What t’ do, what t’ do,” He continued to muse, gliding down the hall and then the grand staircase. The spider continued to absent-mindedly suck on his cigarette as he slid around the entry hall. He glanced around and settled his eyes on Husk, and more importantly, the bar he was lolling at.

“Husky baby, talk to me, gimme’ somethin’ t’ talk about,” Angel purred, drawing up to the bar and leaning languidly over the surface.

The chimera scowled, “Ah fuck, what do you want?”

“Somethin’ to slip down my throat, any suggestions?” He replied, raising an arm and leaning into his hand.

“Nah fuck that, not t’day, not any day-“

Angel laughed, “I meant alcohol, clearly I’m not the only dirty little bitch aroun’ here.”

Husk muttered some choice curses under his breath before reaching under the bar. He grabbed at a bottle of vodka and poured it slowly into a glass before filling the rest with cranberry juice, still cursing quietly to himself. “So uh, it’s been pretty quiet around here lately, which is weird, what with all the people here.” Angel chatted, drawing up a conversation with the sour puss behind the bar.

“Eh, I know yer bein’ all facetious and whatnot, but ‘s not really ever quiet around here.” Husk replied.

Angel furrowed and brow and leaned in, pawing at the glass placed before him, “You wanna divulge some deet’s there, ol’ boy?”

Husk shook his head and grabbed a cloth before wiping down the bar, “S’ not really for me t’ say really, you hear things here, there, upstairs, downstairs, everywhere.”

“Besides th’ fucken’ roaches,” Angel rolled his eyes, “I mean, y’ hear anything about anyone around here? I’m dying to find out more about Smiles and whatever the fuck Vaggie’s problem is.”

Husk shook his head again, a common gesture when talking to Angel, “M’ not one to really tell’s yuh someone else’s biz’ness, ‘specially not any of Alastor’s.”

The spider let out an overly dramatic sigh, “Ugh, I don’t see what’s so scary about him. Sure he’s a creepy fuck, but ain’t we all? I mean, I’m a giant fucken’ spida’ and you’re a fucken’ catbird thing.”

“He might not scare you, but he sure as shit scares the Heaven out of me.” Husk retorted in a harsh, fully lucid tone.

Angel shrugged and finished his drink, tapping the empty glass on the table in a silent ask for more. Husk obliged, then poured his own glass of the mix and downed it in one go. He proceeded to repeat this process a few more times, each time his shoulders slouching more and more.

“You uh, y’alright there?” Angel asked.

“Fucken’ doesn’t surprise me what that guy did.” Husk replied, scratching nervously at his now half-full glass.

The spider leaned back, “What guy?”

“Alastor. Not fucken’ one bit surprised why he’s the way he is.”

“You uh, wanna tell me about it?” Angel slyly inquired, leaning back into Husk’s personal space.

Husk shook his head more this time, “I’ll tell you what kid, you tell me what happened to you, and I might tell you what happened to Vaggie.”

“Why th’ fuck do I wanna know ‘bout her now when we was just talkin’ ‘bout Smiles?”

Husk scratched at his glass some more, “Cause I’m not near drunk enough to even touch that one yet.”

Angel sucked in a cheek, “I don’t really like talking about what happened.”

“Neither does anyone else, but y’ want to know everybody else's shit, yer gotta’ leave your shit here too.”

The spider thought quietly to himself for a moment while Husk pulled out a different bottle and began filling his glass with a new liquor. Angel was a sucker for getting into other people’s business, especially when it came to how they died. He had a morbid sense of humor with it, always guessing at how people died, or what they did when they were alive. However, when it came to his own death, he rarely was to free to divulge. It wasn’t the death of a century, or even a decade, Heaven- it wasn’t even the death of the year.

“I’m waiting,” Husk growled, clearly getting impatient.

“Fine,” Angel muttered, taking Husk’s drink and downing it, “Might as well get fucken’ comfy- there’s a lot leading up to it.”

* * *

“Phencyclidine.”

“You havin’ a stroke kid?” Husk said.

I rolled my eyes, ““Phencyclidine. PCP. Angel Dust.”

“Ah yeah, oh….”

“Yeah, that’s the long story short,” I replied, feeling my heartbeat beginning to go faster.

“Nah kid, gonna have to give me the whole deal or the table’s clear.”

“Ugh fine.”

“I come from a family, clearly since that’s where anyone comes from. Boy meets gal’, they fuck, squat out a few kids and there you and I and everyone else end up. Not like anyone fucken’ asked for it am I right?”  
Husk raised a brow, clearly not interested in any of my shit talkin’.

“Yeah anyways, some people get born into nice quiet families, or big loud ones, or ‘good ones’ or the ‘bad ones’, I got stuck with big, loud, and bad. Kinda’ happens like that in a weird way, like God decides to have a fucken’ joke about where they’re gonna shit ya out and watch you fail. I was set up for it from the get-go, big ol’ Italian crime family in New York, early 1900s. You can kinda’ guess where I’m getting at this.”

Husk poured a whiskey, “Mafia eh?”

I nodded, thank fuck I didn’t have to spell it out for him,” Yeah, big ol’ fucken mess of a life right there and then. Wasn’t the best growing up, always closed doors, strange people in an outta’ the fucken house like some sort of halfway home for weird jacked up, bullet laden, shit shootin’ jackasses. Real fucken annoying, Ma always tried to keep it away from us best she could when she was alive. Real good woman she was, always feedin’ us home-cooked meals, making sure we was hugged when we scraped our knees and hit when we did stupid kid shit. Wasn’t so bad up until she got real sick real fast, just kinda wasted away ‘n then Pa took over both roles.”

“Must’ve been difficult.” Husked replied.

“Oh yeah, getting handed ya first gun at twelve and just fucken expected to be able to hit all the damn cans on your first go is just stupid. Me and my brother just got swept into it all. Go here, carry this, do that, wait here, hide that, all that shit you’d expect y’know? And we just did it, cause if we didn’t, we got the shit beat out of us like it was going outta’ fashion. He never dragged dear Molly into it though, real good like that, kept her away doing woman shit. I wanted that, I wanted to cook instead of being a mule, or clean the dining room instead of bandaging strange fuckers. Always on the go, just never stopped.  
I think it got real hard when I was around fifteen though. If I could pinpoint where shit just went downhill, I think it’d be there. Started feeling weird about things, started getting a little too interested in shit that you just don’t get interested in.”

Husk leaned back, “Drugs?”

“Nah,” I laughed, “Boys. Men. Good ol’ fashioned cock.”He recoiled, I laughed again, fuck he was easy to get to, “That just wasn’t it back then. Now you can get away with fuckin’ just about anything, but in the 20s that shit would get you shot in the street no questions asked ‘cept who else is a queer and where do they live.”

Husk nodded, “Was like that in my time too.”

“Funny that, getting mad over somethin’ like that. Anyways, mad Pa got when he found out. Caught me getting’ too leery at some man they pulled in to look after. He had his room’s door open and was changing and I just kinda, had to look, y’know? So I did, just looked, didn’t even do nothin’ and he caught me and hell.” I shuddered at the memory, that day had been the beginning of the end for me.  
“Hell, I got my ass beat. He was screaming and hollerin’ all over the place, “_Your Ma and I didn’t raise you to be no faggot, we didn’t raise to be like this. No fucken’ son of mine is gonna’ be going around looking at another man like that._” The whole fucking spiel.”

Husk sighed and poured me another drink, sometimes I think he gets it. “Anyways, after that was just a nightmare. I wanted to just try and not think about what was going on with me, y’know? Just ignore the fact that I wanted to get it in the ass and just fucken’ leave it at that. Well, I got my wish, got it real fucken’ good. Phencyclidine.” I shuddered at the thought, the name just rolling out of my mouth like spun gold. I felt my neck itch. “You can smoke it, I smoked it, you can snort it, I snorted it, dip it, lick it, inject it, hell I’m pretty sure you could even just stick it in y’ ass and just call it a fucken day. You start flying and then it’s all just roses from there until you stop. I decided stopping it just wasn’t gonna happen.”

Husk scratched his ear, “So how’d you come by something like that?”  
I sighed, “Pa decided that he wanted to get_ medicinal._ Get experimental, find new shit to ship around and make a few bucks on it. He managed to jack a shipment of the stuff and just went from there. Man, I even heard that shit didn’t get big until decades after I kicked it. Guess I’m always ahead of the times.” “Anyways, I got my grubby little hands on it. Wanted to try the product, y’know? Sure, cocaine was fun but it just didn’t last, too expensive, and nothing else was really good at the time. Opium? Fuck that, makes ya too tired and I just wanted to get lost in the sauce. So I boofed that shit for the first time when I was seventeen. Got ahold of some from some guy, Moreno, fucken’ loved that guy.”

“You didn’ just take it from your Pa?” Husk asked.

I rolled my eyes and signaled for another drink, “Fuck no, do I look like some prized dipshit to you? You think I was gonna just take shit from my Pa after I was already in hot water for being a queer? Nah, got it from Moreno, who got it from my dad. Roundabout as hell, but I wasn’t gonna risk getting a hit taken out on me for being a thief as well.”

Husk poured another drink, I saw him watering it down with that cranberry shit but I wasn’t about to complain, “So how was it?” He asked.

“How do you fucken’ think? I took a fat line up the snoz and just fucken lost my shit. Sounds were everywhere, music was like putting your hand in water, I can’t even explain. People started looking real funny too, and then I got fucken angry and shot at a fucken brick wall because I couldn’t remember what I ate for breakfast.”

“Sounds like you did crack.” The cat laughed.

I laughed, “Nah, I’ve done crack, this was like crack, on crack.”

“So why’d you keep doing it?”

“Cause why fucken’ not? No one asks why you’re a washed-out alcoholic, we all know it’s 'cause you’re tryna’ escape or some shit. Isn’t that why anyone does stupid shit? I got addicted to the feeling of not being there, I was somewhere else, cloud nine or somethin’. It was amazing, I was in a lot of shootouts, and it was just a dream. Shooting and killin’ people and them dropping looked like candy meltin’ on a hot Bronx sidewalk. Shit was cash, and I loved it. I still love it. I’d camp out all night for that shit because it’s better than being here.” I stopped and looked at the demonic cat across from me and felt my neck get hot. I didn’t mean to get all weepy and deep on the guy, but he just looked at me and I knew. He knew, we all know. Unsaid shit, unsaid understanding.

I downed my drink and adjusted myself, “ I didn’t realize it at the time, but knowing what I know now, to back then, is that I was already in Hell before I died. That’s why I don’t mind it so much. I was long dead before I even got here. It doesn’t matter to me, I don’t care about getting better or whatever the fuck else, I just want somewhere to sleep. That’s it. It’s all the same to me.” Husk nodded, and I continued, the booze burning my cheeks, “ Pa realized a little too late that I had a problem. He didn’t really notice at first, cause like, who notices that shit when you’re always fucken’ busy? Then he started noticin’ cause I was something of a hot mess. Not like I’m any better now, but at least I’ve got great tits and nice hair, then? Washed out and tweaked out. He done blamed it all on the fact I’m gay, didn’t even take into account drugs or the fact we was shootin’ people left right and center. Couldn’t institutionalize me neither, would’ve caused a fucking hassle. He went with the next best thing, home job rehab with some hack doctor.”

I shuddered again at the thought, I hated remembering what happened. I wish I could have stayed ignorant, “You uh, you ever notice one of my eyes is black?”

Husk shrugged, “Yeah, so what?”

“You ever wonder why?”

The hybrid frowned, “Not really…why?”

I leaned back and folded my arms and held myself tight, “Medicine is a funny thing. They never fucken’ get it right until its too late. Never bother to take a minute and say ‘Ey, hold on, this is kinda fucked up’.”

“What happened?” Husk asked, but I could tell from his eyes he already knew.

“_Your brains not right boy, you’ve got a lot of issues, boy. You’re gonna sit right there and let the doc fix your brain_.” I said, imitating Pa.

Husk shook his head, “Jesus Christ, what was that like?”

I sighed, “I didn’t remember entirely until I got here. Turns out, remembering it is almost worse than what happened. You’re awake the whole time, you know? They never tell you that, because they cant. I couldn’t, I was basically fucken’ mush right after that. Happens I ‘spose, getting a fucken’ metal pipette jammed into y’ eye socket. He took a good ol’ dig around too. Just banged that shit right in there, squishing and rearrangin’ all the lil nooks and crannies and-“

“Oh god kid, stop.” Husk gasped. Didn’t think the guy would pussy out so easy, haha.

“Yeah well, anyways, that happened. Left me fucken’ duller than a spoon. I was still functional, but not entirely. Just plain ol’ fucking retarded. And what pisses me off, is the fact that for some fucken reason, as a demon, I just get given a black eye. What kind of poetic injustice bullshit is that? Fucken sick if you ask me, I don’t even know how they divvy this shit up.”

Husk shrugged, “Yer talkin’ to a cat that got mashed with an owl. I don’t’ know what t’ tell ya.”

I ran a hand through my hair, “Anyways, went around a few months just like a spoon. Didn’t do much good really, I think that’s why my brother left out a fat bump of PCP in my room. I took it myself, that was my own fault, and with my tolerance so low from not takin’ it, I just keeled over and fucking bit it. I think he was just tryin’ to save me really, saw I got tangled up in too many webs of destruction. Saw that I was never gonna be just right, and decided to let fate take the wheel.”

“What a saint.” Husk growled sarcastically.

“I don’t fucken’ blame him, and if I was on better terms with him, I think I’d owe him. But that’s it, that’s the living breathin’ story of yours truly.”

Husk drew back and placed his paws on the bar, “So you jus’, you jus’ named yourself after the damn thing that killed ya?”

I laughed and leaned on the bar, getting’ real close to the cat, “Well what’s livin’ without a bit of fucken dramatic irony? It’s like someone wrote it to be smart or something, but nah, just figured it out all on my own.”

* * *

The two sat for a while and contemplated quietly. There wasn’t much left to be said about Angel’s life, or death anymore. The spider couldn’t remember the last time he recounted his life story to someone he wasn’t necessarily close with and was left feeling somber- but not really sad. “So, ya gonna drop the dirt on Alastor or Vaggie yet? Or even yourself?” Angel asked, trailing a claw around the top of his glass.

Husk shook his head, “I won’t say on Alastor, that’s somethin’ I’d have to be real fucken hammered for, and as for myself, I’m not sure I wanna go there just yet. But, since you told me your shit, I guess I can trade Vaggie’s shit. It’s not too riveting, but it is fucking sad.”

“Alright, then tell.”

“Yeah yeah, just give me a minute to recollect my thoughts- I don’t wanna be just spoutin’ shit on her life any ol’ way. Gotta talk about it correctly, all formal an shit- least I could do for that poor bitch.”


	2. Bathtub Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel continues to press Husker for information regarding his cohorts at the Hazbin Hotel.

Angel drew back in his seat and nonchalantly kicked at the base of the bar. His feet softly thudding against the bar became a rhythmic tone for Husker to collect his thoughts. The cat pondered to himself how much of Vaggie’s life he would divulge to the spider adjacent to him. He knew enough about her, but it was only ever through snippets offered through thin walls, or secret three am drinks at the bar.

“Ugh,” Angel sighed, “Are ya gonna’ tell me or what?”

“I want t’ make this clear before I start,” Husk said seriously, almost soberly, “I’m not the expert on the girl, I don’t know everythin’.”

“Then what’s th’ point in you tellin’ me?”

The demonic feline frowned, “Y’asked, and I’m buildin’ up to dishin’ the shit on Alastor. I’m not really comfortable even talkin’ bout her, or myself, but talkin’s cheap an’ you were nice enough to put your shit in my lap.”

“If that’s what you’re into~”

“Don’t do that,” Husk snarled, his lips curling back and revealing sharp fangs, “This shit is dead fucken’ serious kid. Jus’ like your shit, ju’s like my shit. We outta be real fucken’ careful how we talk about this ‘cause I don’t wanna misconstrue shit and make bullshit on her fucken’ life. Do you understand me?”

The last part of his sentence was less of a question, and more of a command. Angel nodded softly and cast his eyes downwards, being an ass would do him no favors here.

“Good.” Husk said, leaning back and slowly pouring himself a whiskey, “Now, it’s hard to really go into detail about th’ girl. She’s young, by Hell’s standards and-“ He motioned upwards with his drink, “-Their standards. Real shame, when life get’s ‘em that young.”

Angel shrugged, “Shit happen’s.”

Husk sighed and stared into his glass, “It sure fucken’ does, but I mean, we died in a similar way. Turn’s out, everyone’s fightin’ in a war of some kind. Don’t matter if it was in th’ trenches, or the jungle,” He shuddered, “Or if it’s in your own town goin’ t’ your desk job or some shit.”

The cat went silent, swirling his glass around and around, transfixed on the dark melting liquid that swished and slopped. Angel felt himself getting uncomfortable, perhaps he had delved into something that he wasn’t even quite ready for.

“Hey uh, Husker?” The spider asked softly, leaning in and tapping on the bar, “You still here?”

“Yeah, I’m still here,” He sighed in return, eyes not leaving his glass, “She was from some country down in South America, I think. Salvador? Somethin’ like that. Now, I don’t keep track of all th’ shit happenin’ up there. I don’t care for it, I’m here, not there.”

Angel laughed, “Yeah but, some good shit’s come out since we bit it.”

Husk shook his head, “I prefer to stay ignorant on it, but from what I’ve heard,” He took a sip of his drink, “She was more or less still jus’ a kid. I think in her earlier twenties or somethin’ like that. Life was real hard on her I suppose, she mentioned something to me about school or some shit bein’ real hard, people bein’ real mean to her about stupid shit, talked how she got in trouble a lot, didn’t like her uncle or her step dad, hated authority, that kinda’ shit.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Angel interjected, “She spoken’ to you directly about this shit?”

Husk nodded, “Girl hides her shit real well from Charlie, or Charlie knows and jus’ don’t wanna’ say shit.”

“Like how?”

“Well,” Husk sighed, leaning against the bar and shuffling his hand underneath, “She likes to come here real late occasionally, when everyone but her is gone- and me, but I basically live in this fucken’ bar.”

The cat then pulled out a beer bottle and cracked the lid off of the bar’s edge. He passed it to Angel and hesitantly shoved a straw into it, “That’s what she drinks, says it’s like somethin’ she drank topside. Usually put a fucken’ lime in it but I ain’t choppin’ shit up this late jus’ for your ass.”

Angel raised the bottle to his face and frowned, “Smell’s cheap as hell, not like she’s any class act.”

“Just drink the fucken’ beer and shut up,” Husk growled, pawing the drink further into the spiders face, “Anyways, where was I? Ah, yeah, so Vaggie comes an’ sits here when she’s pissed off more than usual. Not much of a talker, don’t like me much. Don’t think she like any type of man, don’t know what that’s about but I don’t think it’s anythin’ good. Woman don’t like men? Don’t fucken’ ask her. Learn it now and don’t bother pressin’ further. Nunya business at that point.”

Angel shifted on his seat, “I think I can guess…”

“Then no need to talk about that,” Husk replied, “Anyways, real hard life, sad life I think. She don’t really deserve Hell as far as I can tell, mind you, I don’t think I deserve it either- but then again, I think I do. I think that’s maybe why half of us end up here, we jus’ believe we deserve it so much we get shit out here.”

The spider nodded in reply, slowly sucking the beer down. He made a face, shrugged, then continued. They stayed quiet for a few moments, reflecting on the unknown and trying desperately to make sense of it.

“Husker,” Angel began quietly.

“Yeah kid?” He replied.

“I think you should just cut to the chase on this one.”

Husk nodded solemnly, “Long story short, she had enough. Jus’ didn’t want t’ keep tryin’ so hard anymore. Didn’t wanna’ contend with the demons she had up there. Guess she didn’t know she’d end up one as well.”

“How’d she do it?”

“Not clear on exactly how, but I know she died in a bathtub.” He sighed.

They sat for another moment, staring away from one another and at their own respective drinks. Angel felt his neck itch again and pulled at the collar of his jacket. He then looked to Husk and found him scrunching up his nose and scratching at his cheek.

“You uh, you gonna’ cry there Husk?” Angel asked earnestly.

“What? Fuck no,” The cat replied haughtily, “Was jus’ thinkin’ about what she said about her death. Real sad.”

“What’d she say?” Angel asked.

Husk sighed and finished his drink, “She said she remembered just lookin’ up. Watchin’ the water and the light above it. Said it reminded her of dancin’ or somethin’ like that. She said the water just seemed to become like air, and that she just kept watching the light get brighter, and brighter. Then she said she felt very calm, and then nothin’ at all.”

“No pain or nothin’?” Angel asked.

“I think any pain she felt from her death was mild compared to what she suffered through livin’.”

Angel scratched at the counter, “Did your death hurt?”

“Did yours?”

“What? Overdosin’? Kinda, sure.” Angel mused, “I just remember my head hurtin’ like a motherfucka’, and then I was shakin’ all over th’ fucken’ place. Guess in th’ end it was kinda’ peaceful though.”

Husk raised a paw to his head and removed his hat, placing it gingerly on the bar and slid it away from them, “S’was mine. Hurt, then it didn’t hurt no more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll notice not much info was given for Husk or Vaggie, and that's mainly because they're really tricky and in-depth characters to write. 
> 
> Vaggie has a lot of potential for how she died and lived, the same as Husk. You'll notice Husk keeps it vague in regards to Vaggie, and more or less quiet about himself as well- until the next chapter.
> 
> If more information is revealed or I have an epiphany, then this chapter might be retconned and re-written. Thanks again for the Kudos! It's appreciated.


	3. The Gambler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "On a warm summer's eve  
On a train bound for nowhere  
I met up with the gambler  
We were both too tired to sleep  
So we took turns a-starin'  
Out the window at the darkness  
The boredom overtook us,  
And he began to speak"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter is heavy. You've been warned.

“I don’t even know why I’m tellin’ you this shit.” Husk grumbled, grabbing the whiskey from under the counter and neglecting his glass for the bottle instead.

“Uh, cause I fucken’ asked? I mainly asked about Alastor but hell if ya wanna drop your shit then drop your shit.” Angel drawled, making ‘grabby’ hands at the bottle. Husk shook his head and passed him a bottle of cheap Moscato instead. “If ya don’t, then jus’ tell me about th’ fucken’ strawberry pi-“

“Shut up,” Husk growled, slamming his bottle down and grabbing Angel by the lapels of his jacket, “Shut the fuck up. When yer done shuttin’ the fuck up, listen’ to me. Don’t fucken’ go talkin’ all shitty about Alastor- guys a livin’ fucken’ nightmare an’ I’m not gonna’ fucken’ piss him off.”

“Oh what it’s not like he’s listenin’,” Angel said, cocking a brow, “Also, grabbin’ me like that? Hoo boy, might as well bend me over right fuckin’ now ‘cause you’re stirrin’ me up baby~”

Husk dropped the spider and grabbed the bottle of whiskey back off of the counter, “Can never be too sure, and I’m still not fucken’ drunk enough to touch that one still.”

Angel pouted, “Then keep drinkin’, tell me your woes, and then spill the beans on Smiles.”

“Fine, not much to say on my end unless I end up just… spoutin’ shit,” Husk sighed, taking a quick swig of the Jameson whiskey, “I died in th’ seventies. Guess that was a blessin’ on its own, don’t think I would’ve done too well in society after that.”

Angel laughed, “The seventies, wasn’t that all like, big hair, pot, and uh bad fashion choices?”

Husk’s ears flattened against his head, “Was born in th’ thirties, died in seventy-seven.” The spider in front of him looked down to his hands and counted silently on his fingers, using his extra set of arms to aid him, “I was forty-two when I bit it kid, don’t strain yerself.” Angel narrowed his eyes at him, the cat continued, “Yeah yeah, I joined th’ War a bit late, stayed for longer then I wanted, than anyone wanted really.”

“You died in the War?” Angel asked. Husk sighed and shook his head, drinking slowly from the bottle he clutched in his left paw. The chimera took a long swig, and closed his eyes as he nursed the bottle, hoping it would breath life back into him. “You get ya ass packed in by a few bush men or what?”

Husk frowned, lowering the bottle, “I died a year after th’ War.” He picked at the whiskey ‘s label and slowly tore off a strip, letting the piece of paper drift down to the floor, “I was drafted out, wanted to be a good ol’ boy for th’ sake of the red, white, n’ blue. Good ol’ son of ‘Merica gladly trudgin’ out to fight the monsters in th’ jungle.”

The cat’s words were heavily soured, and thinly veiled in dripping sarcasm. Angel sucked in a breath; he didn’t care much for the talks of War. He had seen them ‘good ol’ boys’ back in his day, back after World War One, carrying pride and their friends in their arms, worn and aged by the Hell on earth they endured. He didn’t think much of it, was too involved in the hidden wars that never stretched across the Atlantic, and seeped in the deep underbelly of the hometowns of the United States of America.

“They told us they was monsters,” Husk frowned, his paw strengthening the grip on the bottle, “Told us it was ‘us versus _them_’, that them wanted t’ ‘cause problems, that they was in the wrong, that they _was not people_ ‘n deserved death.” The bottle softly cracked under his grip and he poured the remaining liquid into his mouth before haphazardly throwing the bottle and ending his sup in a cacophony of glass.

Angel flinched, perhaps he had delved too far.

“They told us we was g’ol’boys!” Husk roared, his words slurring and saliva flinging from his mouth, “Told us we was doing right by the Lord! Told us we was doin’ th’ right thing!” The cat seethed, his wings beginning to flap heavily and his tail thrashing out behind him.

The spider slowly stood and pulled his stool back, giving the cat a wide berth, “Listen’, Husk, if it’s too much jus’ say, I got some smokes in m’ pocket just have at ‘em.” He offered coolly, tossing the pack to the feline.

Husk grabbed the pack and growled, shoving one in his mouth and biting at the filter with his teeth. He fumbled under the bar for a lighter and pulled it out, flicking it with harsh intensity and lighting the cigarette. The cat took in a long, slow drag, filling himself with dense, biting smoke before letting it slowly pool out of his nose. He relaxed, leaving it to hang in the corner of his mouth as he continued in a more abated tone, “I shoulda’ known better. I shoulda’ understood that it was a lie, but I wanted th’ lie, didn’t want to be _accountable. _I was a man when I saw th’ light leave th’ eyes of a child. N’ yet, I was fightin’ the good fight with children. Boys barely off their mom’s teat roarin’ n’ hootin’ n’ hollerin’ at how many they ‘got’. Wasn’t concerned with the fact we was all humans, all told th’ same things.”

Angel shook his head, “S’how it be.” He then sipped at his drink, grabbing a smoke from the pack on the bar.

“S’how it always be, kid.” Husk sighed, “Time passes differently there it felt. Seemed like nothin’ was real until it was. I had my fair share of numbers tallyin’ up in m’ mind. Drink was there t’ forget. Drink started getting’ obscure t’wards th’ end, and if you knew y’ hand at poker or black jay then you was golden ‘till the next time.” He finished his cigarette and stubbed it out on the bar, ignoring the black mark burning under the tobacco. “You ever have someone?”

Angel stiffened, the cat’s unusually soft tone catching him by surprise, “I- I don’t follow Husker, gonna’ have to give me a bit more t’ work with.”

“Y’ ever have someone? You loved or liked a whole lot?”

“No.”

“Then let me tells you somethin’,” The cat sighed wearily, “Don’t ever have someone like that. Just hurts ya n’ kills you slowly. Burns you away.”

Angel shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the somber tone, “Did you have someone?”

Husk nodded, “Had me a wife, real sweet thing, had me a little girl too.”

The spider froze, cigarette left an inch from his mouth like a pending question, dotted with the falling of ash onto his lap.

“Wife was named Cecilia, my little one Catherine, ‘Cat’ fer short,” He sniffed, looking over one of his paws, “Left ‘em behind, said I’ll be comin’ back. I never did go back, at least, not myself. Went back a different man. That’s th’ problem with killin’, yer not the same after.” He paused again, lighting another cigarette then slowly reached for another bottle. Husk looked at it longingly before pouring it into one of his previous glasses, and had just a sip, “I made eye contact on mistake a lot back in th’ beginning. Y’know? Don’t ever look ‘em in the eyes, just know where y’ shootin’ and for God’s sake just fucken’ shoot. Don’t dwell, don’t look in th’ eyes.”

Angel shrugged, “Never thought of that, didn’t pay ‘nough attention t’ shit like that anyways.”

“Good,” Husk said, “You’d be a different kind of man if yous did. You see the light go out, y’know? See them leave off to wherever they go.” He tapped the table and sipped at his drink again, “This one time though, towards the end, it was different.”

Angel held his breath at the new sober tone in the cat's voice, “Oh?” He asked quietly.

Husk nodded, “Was near the end, real long day. We was trudgin’ along and got scooped down on a bunch of ‘cong hidin’. Ambushed, and slaughtered jus’ about. Bodies droppin’ on either side like flies. I was hidin’ in a bush, and heard a gun click.” The cat slowly leaned onto the countertop and ran a paw over his head, “I turned at it was some kid. He couldn’t ta’ ‘bin more than sixteen. Skinny thing, real scared lookin’, he was ‘cong as well. I waited for him t’ pull the trigger but he never did. We just locked eyes and both knew that we was the same. There was no ‘us or them’, we was the samw coin- jus’ different sides. I had my gun raised but I never shot neither, just watched each other. It was like all the sounds around us jus’ stopped. We was both boys, lost n’ scared and wantin’ it to be over in that moment. He had big brown eyes, real wide, jus’ like my little Cat.” Husk’s demeanor sank even lower, “Didn’t notice Marley up near th’ kid ‘till it was too late. Nothin’ I coulda’ done even if I wanted. Shot the kid point-blank in the back of the head.”

“_Porca puttana_…” Angel quietly gasped.

Husk nodded, “Holy shit indeed. Somethin’ like that changes a man. Changed me. Watchin’ the front of his face blow out like a tire on a truck. Just all blood n’ brains n’ bone blowin’ out. Makes a noise too, but we was so close all I could hear was ringin’, static,” He shuddered, “I’m lucky I wasn’t shot, Marley boy shot down th’ kid, was easily a foot er two over him. He just dropped after that in front of me. I just looked, just watched. After that, life just became a blur.”

The two sat in pregnant silence once again, the air filled with smoke and sadness that swirled between one another in quiet scrutiny. They sat for a good half hour, just slowly drinking and smoking until Husker felt brave and drunk enough to continue.

“Got home after th’ war. Home to Cecilia and Cat. They was happy at first, but didn’t last.” Husk sighed, “I’m a mean drunk, I know that, I’m an asshole and a cusser and a fighter and a hell of a poker hand, but they knew th’ man before. Makes it just that worse. Six months into bein’ back, Cecilia had enough of me gamblin’ away money, makin’ money, drinkin’ that away in cheap booze and liquor. Was sick n’ tired of the fightin’, the nightmares, th’ yellin’. Couldn’t stand me getting’ in her face no more.”

Angel scratched at his neck, “D’you ever hit her?”

Husk grew dark in the eyes, “No boy. You don’t lay your hands on a woman.”

“Sorry.”

Husk waved a paw, “I don’t blame you fer thinkin’ it. I threw shit an awful fucken’ lot, but never did I hurt or lay a hand on my gal, or my little Catherine. Ne’er would’ve, would’ve died a thousan’ deaths before e’er getting’ there.” His voice shook slightly, but the alcohol prevailed and he kept strong, “Cecilia packed up her shit n’ Cat n’ left. I remember how Cat cried, she screamed th’ house down askin’ ‘_why why why, daddy why?’ _n’ I just sat n’ drank. Didn’t know that’d be the last time I saw her.”

“_Oh Dio_…”

“He done have nothin’ t’ do with it. I know we’re here n’ all, but it’s hard to believe in God after that kinda shit. We’re in Hell, but what for? What makes us monsters? He’s th’ one lettin’ this kinda shit happen.” Husk shook his head, “I guess we should all be in Hell. I know I fucking deserve it, but so does he. Anyways, I drank and gambled, stayed th’ same after they left. Mournin’ I suppose, mournin’ my life before and th’ man I was before this shit. Got real fucken’ bored one day, little too drunk, little too brave n’ belligerent.”

Angel looked to the floor, “This how you died?”

“Yep.”

“You don’t have ta keep goin’.” Angel offered.

Husk shook his head, “I met a lot of folks in my life, learned a lot of things, languages, games, you name it. Got real friendly with Russians as well, almost got ‘roused up n’ accused of bein’ a fucken commie, but hey, I was a good ‘ol boy right? Them Russians are a different breed,” He reminisced fondly, before sighing and crossing his arms, almost lying on the bar now, “Taught me a lil’ game I would play ‘n always win. I was a lucky man in a sick way, but you play that Roulette enough times ‘n the Lord finally tells you y’ not shit in his eyes.”

“Russian Roulette?” Angel guessed.

“Mhm, played a hundred times before that night. Never lost, ha, but then I lost. Lost the gamble.” He said with a sick grimace, “Wasn’t much on th’ table. Lost my ‘Celia, lost my Catherine- my Cat. N’ now,” Husk stood up straight and motioned to himself, “I think I understand the sick thinkin’ this place got. Look in the mirror and see the mistakes I’ve made ‘n the things I lost all in one place. Lookin’ in th’ mirror was commonplace, a folly, now it’s just damn torture.”

Angel looked at the cat and felt a pang of sympathy which quickly dissipated, “D’you think you’ll see ‘em again?”

Husk let out a short laugh, a bitter and punching sound, “Boy, they was never destined fer this place. If they ain’t still kickin’, they’d be in Heaven. ‘Specially my little girl, ain’t not a bad bone headed for Hell in her whole bein’.”

Angel nodded and bit softly at one of his claws, not knowing what to say next.

“Can I tell you a lil somethin’?” Husk eventually asked quietly, leaning towards the spider.

“Uh, sure?” Angel replied hesitantly.

“You don’t go tellin’ anyone this. You don’t mention it, ever.”

“Alright, I’ll bite.” The other demon replied.

Husk leaned even closer, the rotting stench of whiskey and cigarette seeping from his mouth, “Sometime’s, I wonder if Charlie’s idea really fucken’ works. I’m on th’ damn fence, but sometimes,” He began to lower his voice even more to a soft whisper, “I really hope it works fer someone, ‘cause maybe then I’d give all this up, th’ drinkin’, th’ games, th’ everythin’ else. Just to see my Cat again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I didn't sneak in a Kenny rogers reference for husk then clearly I haven't done myself any justice in life.
> 
> Sorry for the late update, I got off from work late and went to go play pool and drink whiskey.
> 
> That's it, that's my excuse. Please don't eat me.
> 
> I also forgot to add! Happy Tha̷nksg̵i̸ving to any of my fellow U.S. readers! Enj̴̮̠̫̙̐̿̈̕oy̷̡̫̮̪̜̏̌̊̍́ your mea̴l̵̼̄̇̎̓͗!


End file.
